If We Never Happened
by sarcastic-student
Summary: One Night. Two Mistakes. R/B, K/OC, with special appearances by other characters. Suggestions are always welcome, but no promises that your ideas will be incorporated.
1. Blame It On the Alcohol

_This could be bad_, Rachel thought, as she put one foot lightly on the ground. Holding her breath, she shimmied away from Blaine's sleeping form. This. This could be very bad. The thoughts racing through her head were as incoherent and jumbled as the colorful pile of clothing on the floor. She fished out a pair of hot pink underwear and slipped them on before pulling a hastily discarded pair of blue jeans over her slightly sore legs.

"_Take them off_," _his voice barely above a whisper, sending shivers down her spine as it turned into a low growl, "Now." She opened her mouth, wanting to be coy, "Say please," was what she had been planning to say, but his lips were too fast for her vocal chords and the sound was crushed back into her throat by the sheer force of the way he felt pressed up against her body. The heat. Somehow she was vaguely aware of her jeans being pulled down and his hands moving to places she hadn't granted them permission to go. _

Where the hell was her bra? Self-conscious even though Blaine's light snores told her she had nothing to worry about, she began to search through the room with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Bending down, she checked quickly beneath the bed and could see her bright green shirt with the simple white ruffles lying close to the wall. It must have slipped through the crack between the headboard and the mattress.

"_I-, We-, We can't do this!" she stammered, she pressed her hands against his chest and pushed as hard as she could. She was barely effectual. Desire was swimming through her body, making her dizzy, making her ache with a severity that left her weak and defenseless. "Please," she said, as he began to pull off her shirt, "Please, don't do this."_

_But her shirt was already off and soft, but firm kisses were being planted all over her abdomen, her chest, her neck. Her hips bucked against him involuntarily and he moved his hands quickly to push her down further onto the mattress, his mouth pulled into a quick grin as his hazel eyes registered how much control he had over her at that moment. Suddenly his lips were at her ear as his fingers reached around her to unclasp the back of her bra._

"_Don't fight me," he whispered._

"Damn it," Rachel said quietly, to no one in particular as memories from the previous night washed over her. An impromptu party at Kurt and Finn's, their parents gone for the weekend, the liquor cabinet, The New Directions, The Warblers, the seven minutes in heaven with Quinn (?), laughing it off even though she'd never gone that far with anyone, let alone a girl, the drunken troop upstairs to bed, Artie and Brittany falling asleep at the foot of the stairs, Santana wrapped in some Warbler's arms on the floor of the master bedroom, the hallway, poking her head into an empty room and feeling a hand at the small of her back, pushing her forward and then whipping her back against the door and kissing her so hard that she felt it shut behind her, his fingers quickly reaching around her body to lock it, smelling forest scented cologne mixed with rum and knowing... knowing it was Blaine.

She crept forward to the en suite bathroom on the right side of the room, taking note of the simple furnishings and guessing that they had commandeered the guest room. As she stepped onto the blue tile her feet slid out from under her and she gave a sharp cry as she crashed onto the ground. Water was everywhere, several soaked towels lay strewn on the ground, and a half empty bottle of lilac-scented soap had been tossed unceremoniously onto the bathmat. In the middle of all the chaos stood the shower, the straps of her bra barely visible as they hung limply over the side.

"_Don't fight me," the words pounded in her head. Suddenly his arrogance gave her strength and she pushed against him again with all the force she could muster. "Screw you," she said, her voice low and her eyes narrowed. Rolling off the bed she scurried into the bathroom and shut the door. She immediately felt safer as she pressed her palms onto the counter, staring into the mirror. Her hair was wild and her mascara was running. Taking a deep breath, she splashed some cold water onto her face. _

__What are you doing?_ she asked herself, and stood there trembling for a few seconds, waiting for an answer. This was ridiculous, this was not her. What on earth could have possessed her act like this? And with Blaine of all people? _Five vodka tonics, perhaps?_ came the slightly bemused answer from the back of her fuzzy mind. In spite of herself, Rachel smiled a little. _

**_She said she usually don't, but I know that she front, __'cause shawty know what she want, but she don't wanna seem like she's easy..._**

_She closed her eyes and began to hum a little, starting to feel better. Maybe Jamie Foxx was right and all she had to do to make this whole mess go away was just blame it on the alcohol. That seemed to work for most people. She was so caught up in her own little world that she didn't even notice him until his fingers were splayed across her abdomen, pressing her against him so she could feel every muscle twitch in his body and the hardness between his legs, her eyes flew open and she stared into the mirror, shocked into silence by the image reflected back to her. Blaine's lips hovered above her ear for a moment, the look on his face entirely different from the one she had seen only a few minutes ago. _

"_Please," he whispered, his voice raw with need and desperation, "Rachel, just-, just please."_

_**Blame it on the goose, gotcha feeling loose..**_

_Later she couldn't describe it. The feeling that overcame her right then. Like there was no turning back, no other option. Only surrender."Okay," she whispered, desire shooting through her body. She turned to face him, hopping up onto the counter and wrapping her legs around his torso. "Okay."_

_**Blame it on the ah- ah- ah- ah- ah- alcohol...** _

_It's a blur after that, but somehow she remembers the shower, warm water rushing over her, taking her bra off for him, watching him fill his hands with her breasts, feeling him suck and bite down gently, his fingers inside her, first one, then two, pushing himself between her legs, giving her time to adjust to feeling him inside her body before rocking gently back and forth under the steady spray, lilacs, the scent pouring over her as he took his time washing every inch of her body, carrying her back to the bed, his mouth on hers, and then he was inside her again. _

"Fuck," she said aloud, shaking excess water off of her bra before awkwardly refastening it. "Holy... fuck!"

"Well as crude as I find your explanation of what happened between us last night, I'll concede that it's accurate," came a low voice from behind her.

Rachel turned quickly, almost falling again and quickly pulled her shirt on trying desperately to look anywhere but in Blaine's direction.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice concerned. "I heard you fall."

"I'm fine," she replied, pushing past him out the door. She looked back at him before she left the room.

"Blaine? This... this never happened, okay?"

He looked at her for a moment, his eyes trying to pry information out of her mind. He suddenly looked vulnerable and small standing there in nothing but a pair of plaid boxers. He opened his mouth to respond, but seemed to change his mind, closing it again before taking a deep breath.

"Sure," he said, "Never happened."

Rachel scurried down the hall, the first hints of early morning sunlight cast shadows onto the carpet and Kurt's bedroom door was slightly ajar. She did a double take as she analyzed the scene before her, crumpled bed covers and Kurt half naked and wrapped tightly in another boy's arms. Someone from Dalton Academy, was it Wes? What the hell had happened last night?

Raking her right hand through her hair, she continued her escape from the house, trying not to give it too much thought. After all, given what had happened in that guest room, she was the last person on the planet who should be allowed to judge anyone.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Author's Note: Thanks to all those who favorited and shared this story. My apologies for how long it's taken to get this chapter up. Hopefully Chapter 3 will available soon, but comments always make the process go faster ;)**_

_Well, this is interesting._ Kurt tried to lift his head up to look around, but he felt too groggy and dizzy to make much of an effort. He decided to concentrate his mental capacity on rebuilding the previous night as a sequence of out-of-focus images barraged his brain. _Oh damn_, he thought, as he began to recall the series of events that had led to this very moment: one that found him lying in bed on a Saturday morning wrapped snugly in Wes's arms.

"_Well, personally I think the New Directions haven't got a prayer at Regionals," David said, waving his arms dramatically in the air so that a splash of the beer he was drinking spilled out of his cup and onto his head. "Wha- what! Who did that?" he exclaimed, whipping around as the cold liquid trickled down over his blazer. _

"_Someone's had enough," Wes laughed, tossing a roll of paper towels David's way. _

"_Not nearly," David replied as he completely failed to catch them._

_Finn picked the paper towels off the floor and tore one off, handing it to David, while he mused, "I'll have to make sure to take you out to celebratory drinks _before_ Regionals. That way we'll have it in the bag," he grinned, "Not that we don't already."_

"_Except not," Kurt grinned at his step-brother and raised his glass, "But in the spirit of this party, I'll make an acquisition: may the best team win!"_

"_Here, here!" shouted Mercedes and Santana, coming over to join the boys. _

"_**So raise your glass if you are wrong, in all the right ways**!" Artie and Brittany sang as they raised their cups. _

"_Let's play a game!" Mercedes said, wobbling a little bit and catching onto Kurt for balance. "King's? Irish Poker? Truth or Dare?"_

"_I wasn't aware this party had a Junior High School theme," Blaine smirked as he walked across the room from were he had sat perched on the back of a couch. _

"_How about Seven Minutes in Heaven?" Tina suggested sheepishly from behind the bar._

_Santana immediately sidled up to Wes and whispered something in his ear. He looked slightly uncomfortable for a moment before laughing it off. "Oh really," he said in response, glancing in Kurt's direction._

"_I think that's a great idea," Kurt responded, "All agreed?"_

Wes was beginning to stir and Kurt was in no shape to deal with the repercussions that were sure to come. He quickly scooted out of bed and wrapped his lower half in a blanket that had found its way to the floor. He went to go take clean up in the master bedroom, but almost tripped on the sleeping forms of Santana and David (?) before he could make it halfway across the room. He managed to regain his balance before continuing down the hall, planning to use the shower in the guest bedroom instead.

He opened the door quietly and groaned at the state of the room. He and Finn were in for a long day of cleaning if this was any indication of what the rest of the house looked like. He turned the handle on the bathroom door, looking forward to letting the steaming water work out some of the kinks in his neck and soothe his burgeoning hangover, but jumped back in shock at what met his eyes. Water and discarded towels were everywhere and parts of the room appeared to be covered in soap. Standing in the center of it all was Blaine, a towel wrapped around his waist and an equally surprised expression on his face.

"Good morning?" Kurt said, too many questions traveling through his mind at warp speed to choose a better greeting.

"What's up?" Blaine replied, equally as confused.

"I was just gonna-, if you were do-, um, I'll wait out here," Kurt scrambled backwards and closed the door behind him. He tried to remember the last time he had seen Blaine.

"_Oh my god, I'm so tirrrrreeeed!" Rachel yawned, lying in Quinn's arms behind the sofa. _

"_Me too," Sam agreed, finishing off the last of his drink. _

"_Does anyone even know where Santana and David are?" Kurt asked._

"_Probably having ridiculously loud sex somewhere," Artie only half-joked, wrapping his arms more tightly around Brittany who had already fallen asleep in his lap._

"_Well, I for one am not driving home tonight," Blaine said, standing up. "Got anywhere we can crash?"_

"_Anywhere there's a bed is free for the taking," Finn said, as he began to toss plastic cups into an empty trash bag._

_Blaine had left the basement shortly after and within a few minutes the rest of the crew had trooped upstairs in search of a place to sleep. Everyone that was, except for Kurt and Wes._

"Sooooo," Blaine said softly, coming out of the bathroom a minute later. He rubbed a hand over the stubble on his chin and sighed. "How was your night last night?"

Kurt laughed. "Almost as good as yours by the looks of it." He took another look at Blaine's face and saw something akin to remorse and sorrow etched in his frown lines. "Maybe better?"

"Probably," Blaine replied, flopping onto the bed with a sigh.

Kurt observed Blaine's relaxed form for a moment, the towel riding low on his hips and one arm slung over his eyes to shield them from the creeping sunlight.

"What's wrong?" Kurt asked quietly.

There was a moment of silence and he almost thought that Blaine hadn't heard him before the answer came.

"I don't want to talk about it," and then, slightly lower, "Distract me."

Kurt wasn't sure if he was imagining the note of seduction in Blaine's voice. He wasn't sure of anything at that moment, least of all what made him trail his index finger along the side of Blaine's rib cage and answer in an equally low voice,

"What do you want me to do?" he moved his hand lower and lower still. Kurt felt desire coursing through him, just the tiniest thoughts of what might occur making him hard. This couldn't be happening. He must still be drunk or high or something. He moved his hand away quickly, ashamed and ready to leave. But Blaine's answer came in the form of a whimper as he caught Kurt's hand and put it back on his abdomen. They were both silent for another moment, and then:

"Anything you want."


End file.
